


Give the Chef My Condolences

by JoonieLover



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Making Out, fade to black descriptions of sex, misleading title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8399809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoonieLover/pseuds/JoonieLover
Summary: Jumin and Yoosung ‘hang out’ for a weekend. They can’t keep their hands -  or eyes - off each other, much to The Chef’s dismay.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I most definitely did not create the wonderful game we call Mystic Messenger, so all I own in this is the plot. I also don't own the Mirror's Edge franchise, which is mentioned....Vaguely. If you spot any grammatical or spelling errors, please point them out! Any feedback is welcome and encouraged! (just maybe don't bash me for no reason thanks) This is my first Mystic Messenger fanfiction, but hopefully not the last. Enjoy~

 If you told Yoosung Kim last year that he’d be in a relationship with Jumin Han, he’d have laughed nervously, and then fainted. He never could have imagined what a relationship with the seemingly cold-hearted man would entail.

 

 But alas, here he was, sitting on Jumin’s (expensive) leather couch, looking at Jumin’s ( _ very  _ expensive) gaming systems and flat screen TV. Yoosung got up to look at the rack of games, and slid his fingers along their spines reverently. He found the one he wanted,  _ Glass Edges:Catalysts _ , and slid it out gently. He gazed at it in awe for many seconds and finally - gingerly - opened the case. He turned on the Zet-Box and powered up the game, thinking about the last time he’d seen it. It was a picture of the game that he’d printed out and pinned to his wall to stare at longingly. It wasn’t exactly something you could find anywhere, nor was it cheap.

 

 The dramatic start-up music was interrupted by a smooth and low voice right next to Yoosung’s ear.  

 

 “Do you always play games before you eat breakfast?”

 

 Yoosung jumped - but only a little! - and definitely  _ didn’t _ yelp in surprise at Jumin’s sudden appearance. He turned to face him and laughed a little sheepishly.

 

 “Not always. But it’s the weekend! And I’ve never seen this game in person before so I just got really excited to play and-” Yoosung cut himself off before he could finish rambling and realized that an apology may be necessary. “Um. I’m sorry for just opening it up without permission. I probably should have asked first, now that I think about it. I-” 

 

 Jumin took in Yoosung’s sleep-mussed hair and smiled minutely.

 “You don't have to apologize. I told you to make yourself at home didn't I?” Yoosung nodded and looked up at him. “Besides, I bought that one especially for you.”

 

 The blond began trying to express his immense gratitude, but he was interrupted by a gentle kiss from Jumin.

 

 “Anything for you.”

 

 Yoosung blushed, unused to any gifts of the extravagant sort, and changed the subject.

 

 “Why are you so dressed up? You’re not going into work are you? Cause that’s no fair.” Yoosung stared pointedly at Jumin’s tie and pouted to emphasize his point.

 

 Jumin chuckled - though it sounded quite unnatural coming out of his mouth - and ruffled Yoosung’s hair.

 

 “I wouldn’t exactly call myself ‘dressed up’, but no. I’m not going into work. I took this weekend off, since we’ll be ‘hanging out’.”

 

 Yoosung giggled gleefully and rose from the couch to stretch. As he did, Jumin quirked an eyebrow in silent question at what Yoosung was wearing, or the lack thereof. The blond had on a pinstriped dress shirt - one of Jumin’s - and nothing else that Jumin could see. Yoosung raised his arms a bit higher and Jumin saw the edge of his electric green underwear. He found Yoosung’s bare legs  _ very _ attractive, but figured he should still make sure that his lover’s clothing choice hadn't been simply a last minute scramble for clothing.

 “Why are you wearing my shirt? I thought I had my staff set out clothes for you?”

 

 “No...they did. I just...prefer baggy clothes for sleeping?” The last part accidentally came out as a question, since Yoosung too began questioning his actions. He had hoped the shirt would be a cute - possibly seductive - gesture, and he held onto that hope as his cheeks grew slowly darker.

 

 “Aren’t you cold?”

 

 Yoosung shook his head.

 

 “Are you certain you don't want any pants?”

 

 Yoosung nodded.

 

 “If you say so.” Jumin’s tone was still questioning as his eyes flicked downwards. After several moments - far too long for it to have been a casual glance - Jumin brought his gaze back up to Yoosung’s face as nonchalantly as possible.

 

 Yoosung didn’t miss the obvious glance and blushed again, but less from embarrassment and more from what - he hoped - was to come. He was glad his endeavor into the unknown hadn't been wasted after all.

 

 “Would you care to join me for breakfast?” As Yoosung walked around the side of the couch, Jumin extended his arm out for him to take.

 

 Yoosung giggled at the gesture and linked their arms together.

 

 “It’d be my pleasure. Lead on!”

  
  


~

 

 Yoosung's jaw dropped to the floor as he and Jumin walked into the kitchen. He took in the glittering appliances, gleaming tiles, and granite countertops. He admired the spaciousness of the kitchen, imagining what it'd be like to cook something in it himself. 

 

 It didn’t seem like he’d remember to of his own volition, so Jumin gently lifted his jaw and Yoosung snapped it shut.

 

 “What would you like to eat, Yoosung?”

 

 Yoosung suddenly had no idea what he would like to eat, and just stared at Jumin in awe.

 

 Jumin took his deer-in-headlights expression as a silent question and answered with,

 

 “My chef can make you anything.”

 

 That most definitely didn't help Yoosung's decision making process, but after a second he came back to himself and decided to go for one of the college student classics.

 

 “How about omurice? Please?”

 

 “Of course. A bowl of omurice, Chef.” 

 

 “Yes, Mr. Han.” 

 

 Yoosung looked to the man that had spoken - he hadn't noticed him at first, since he'd been silent until now and Yoosung had been preoccupied - and was once again taken aback by how rich Jumin was. He had his own personal  _ chef _ for God's sake. He was struck by thoughts of how different his life would've been if he hadn't joined the RFA, and Yoosung was once again glad that he had. 

 

 Jumin nodded to the doors on the other side of the kitchen and bade Yoosung to follow. He did. Yoosung saw that the doors were of the flimsy kind, the ones you saw inside the kitchens of restaurants. When Jumin pushed them open, Yoosung understood why. 

 

 They walked into what looked like a sparsely decorated restaurant. The tables were made of a black matte material, and each had two high backed metal chairs pushed under them. There were floor to ceiling windows, out of which Yoosung could see the horizon and all the buildings surrounding this one. The blond found himself staring, once again, with his mouth wide open. 

 

 “This is where all my employees have their meals. I closed it today.” Jumin had been looking out the windows himself, so didn’t immediately notice Yoosung’s dumbfounded look. 

 

 “Are you trying to catch flies with your mouth? Since when did you become a frog?” Jumin raised an eyebrow and lightly patted Yoosung’s cheek.

 Yoosung blushed and giggled awkwardly.

 

 “If I'm a frog, does that make you my princess?” 

 

 Jumin looked slightly bemused at the joke, and said, “Actually, I'd be your prince, considering the fact that I'm not a female.” 

 

 Yoosung tittered and silently berated himself, -  _ bad Yoosung! He probably thinks you insulted him! -  _ assuming that Jumin hasn't understood what he'd been “asking” for in his veiled and pretty much unnoticeable way. Yoosung was still quite new to relationships, and very shy in asking for affection, but he still  _ tried _ . It was in a roundabout way, but he tried.

 

 His assumption was, however, incorrect. So he was quite surprised when Jumin pressed him against the nearest table and murmured into his ear, “I may not be a princess, but I’ll still lift your curse, love.”

 

 Yoosung giggled as Jumin peppered his pale neck with kisses. 

 

 “I'm not sure if neck kisses count or not…” Yoosung smirked teasingly. 

 

 Jumin also smirked, for half a second - it was very small, and Yoosung wasn't certain it hadn't been his imagination - and undid Yoosung's top buttons.

 

 “I suppose I'll just have to keep trying then, won't I?” Jumin asked the blond, his hands sliding from Yoosung’s waist to his thighs. Yoosung sensed his intentions and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s neck.

 

 The cold metal of the table nipped at Yoosung’s bare legs as Jumin lifted him onto it. The man kissed Yoosung's collarbone and sucked gently at a sensitive spot. Yoosung inhaled sharply, and Jumin kissed a line up his jaw affectionately. Yoosung tilted his head and practically moaned as Jumin slid his cold fingers underneath the blond’s shirt.

 

 Yoosung tried to catch his lips several times, but Jumin allowed him only a few chaste kisses, no more. He wanted to tease Yoosung a bit longer. 

 

 The blond whimpered, wishing for his favorite hot clash of tongues, but not wanting to say anything that would ruin the moment. He - very briefly - considered exclaiming the clichéd, “Kiss me you fool!”, but knew that all he’d accomplish was embarrassing himself.

 

 Yoosung settled for sighing dramatically and muttering, “Are you gonna kiss me or not?”

 

 Jumin huffed lightly, but leaned in and complied with Yoosung's wishes. Yoosung responded eagerly, but Jumin didn't allow the kiss to deepen yet. He tugged Yoosung flush against him and then gently bit his lip, silently asking for access. Yoosung opened his mouth immediately, and really  _ did _ moan at the feeling of Jumin’s tongue taking over his mouth.

 

 Of course, that was the exact moment that The Chef slid silently into the room, bearing the food. Yoosung wouldn’t have noticed a thunderstorm surging at that moment, and Jumin frankly didn’t care, so The Chef was forced to loudly clear his throat to garner the two men’s attention. Several times. 

 

 When Yoosung finally opened his eyes and pulled away a few seconds later, annoyed at the noise, he immediately blushed all the way down his neck. He stuttered apologies, excuses, and justifications all at once. He gave up on trying - and failing - to alleviate his embarrassment with his words and settled for burying his burning face in Jumin’s shirt. He knew it was still a compromising position - what with his legs being spread and Jumin in between them - but, at least he didn’t have to look The Chef in the face now.

 

 The Chef hadn’t reacted at all to the situation before him, and deposited the domed silver tray onto the table that Yoosung was still occupying. Jumin thanked and dismissed him.

 

 “...Is he gone?” Yoosung tentatively raised his head and whispered. 

 

 “You don’t need to whisper. And yes, he is.” Yoosung let his head fall against Jumin’s chest once more. “What was that about?”

 

 “Well. Um. Wait, what do you  _ mean  _ ‘what was that about’?!” Yoosung figured he’d had the reaction that any other person would’ve had. He figured Jumin’s words must be one of his off-kilter jokes, or that Yoosung had actually overreacted, neither of which were uncommon. Looking up at Jumin’s somewhat perplexed expression, however, he realized it was just another example of Jumin being Jumin.

 

 “I meant exactly what I said. Must I repeat myself?”

 

 Yoosung felt a chill of  - not entirely unpleasant - anticipation run down his spine at Jumin’s tone of voice. He shook his head meekly.

 

 “Can I just get down off the table? Please?” Being held flush against Jumin wasn’t helping to take away the redness in his face, only adding to it. As if reading his thoughts, Jumin's grip on Yoosung's torso tightened minutely as he was brought even closer to the taller man.

 

 “After you answer my question.” Yoosung knew that Jumin must be teasing him so _mercilessly_ on purpose. There was no way this wasn’t an accident. It was times like these - times when all he wanted was to get _off the_ _table_ \- that Yoosung wondered why Jumin never left his devious flirting _inside_ the bedroom. He probably just enjoyed seeing Yoosung squirm about like this. (Although, Yoosung would be lying if he said he entirely hated it; his fellow guild members didn’t call him ‘Mr. M’ for nothing) He knew that Jumin must be smirking somewhere underneath that infuriatingly deadpan exterior of his.

 

 “Were you not embarrassed? At all?”

 

 “Not at all.”

 

 “Really?”

 

 “Really.”

 

 Yoosung thought - hoped, rather - he'd magically gotten out of having to explain his embarrassment, when Jumin commented, “You still haven't answered my question.” 

 

 Yoosung sighed in defeat.

 

 “I was embarrassed. It's just weird to me, having other people see us...like that. I don't know.”

 

 “Are you ashamed of our relationship?” Jumin's gaze and tone remained blank, making him seem dispassionately curious rather than hurt.

 

 “What?! No! Jumin I-” Yoosung cut himself off before he confessed in the heat of the moment. “No way. I'm just not used to affection, and  _ definitely _ not public affection. I'm sorry it seemed that way.”

 

 “I see. Would you like for me to stop?”

 

 “Ah, no. No, I don't mind it. I was just caught off guard.  _ Really  _ off guard. Like, really  _ really _ caught off guard because I didn't even hear him and I  _ sure  _ didn't see him b-”

 

 “I understand.”

 

 “Sorry.” Yoosung chuckled nervously under Jumin's piercing gaze. He'd gotten more used to it over the past few weeks, but sometimes he was still struck by what he saw behind his beautiful dark eyes. He couldn't quite make out whatever the fleeting - but familiar - emotion had been, and just hoped that it wasn't hurt.

 

 “Don't be sorry. However, you can make it up to me.” The way Jumin said the word “can” made it sound more like he was saying the word “will”. Yoosung didn't understand why, but the thought of having to bend to Jumin's own will always... _ excited  _ him. Extraordinarily so.

 

 Neither had noticed, but they'd been slowly leaning closer to each other for a while now. So, when Yoosung spoke, it came out as an excited, careless whisper. 

 

 “How?” 

 

 Yoosung gasped as Jumin’s cold hands gripped his bare legs. 

 

 “You know how.” Yoosung shivered in anticipation as Jumin moved close enough to whisper directly into the blonde’s ear.

 

 “Repent.”

 

 With that, Yoosung finally deciphered the familiar emotion he'd been seeing flashes of in his lover.

 

 Lust.

 

~

 

By the time they were done, Yoosung’s omurice had gone completely cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Yo!! You made it to the end! Congratulations! You won (hopefully) a new point of view and knowledge gained.  
> Actual notes: I really like the thing where one person wears just their lover's shirt. I love it. So. Much. Also, the reason 'The Chef' is capped is that I find it amusing, but if it only annoyed you, I apologize. My humor is strange. And I applaud you if you caught my Cheritz-esque parody of Mirror's Edge (i love that game so much), but even if you didn't, thank you for reading my story! If you're curious, the main reason I ship Jumin x Yoosung is because of one of the phone calls from Yoosung (I don't remember the route) where he says his guild members call him a masochist. That, plus the whole (possible) InternxBoss dynamic. Please give feedback (questions, what could be better, what you liked, what you loved, etc...) I appreciate it! ^^
> 
>  
> 
> Looking over this note, I realized....I use a lot of parentheses.
> 
> P.S. You can find me on tumblr at - https://the-baddest-bitch.tumblr.com/


End file.
